


Innocent as the Day is Long (These Boys are Anything But)

by mind_and_malady



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hustling, Im a slut for competent!Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-19
Updated: 2015-08-19
Packaged: 2018-04-15 12:55:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4607559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mind_and_malady/pseuds/mind_and_malady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're strapped for cash. A quick stop is necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innocent as the Day is Long (These Boys are Anything But)

**Author's Note:**

> idk i was just thinking about how Sam fucking trashed that witch at poker in s4 and this happened

“Dude, gimme your card.”

Sam looks up from the laptop, starring narrowly at Dean. “You’ve used my card for the past week, Dean. Why the hell haven’t you gotten a new one?”

“‘Cause we’ve been a little busy, between hunting wendigos and a pack of werewolves?” Dean retorts, and Sam sighs, fishes his card out and hands it over.

Dean tries to swipe the card and the little scanner attached to the gas pump makes an angry beeping sound. The brothers stare at each other.

“Well, shit,” Sam mutters. “Guess we’re camping out here for a couple days.”

Dean growls something foul, and kicks the gas pump.

*

“Can’t we just, I don’t know, look for odd jobs?”

“What, and waste your magnificent bluffing skills?” Dean scoffs. “Hell no. Get in there and use those puppy eyes to weasel some bastard out of his cash.”

*

Sam loses the first two rounds intentionally, losing almost a hundred bucks. Then he puts three fifties down and demands a third round. He looks pretty drunk, he’s gone through almost eight beers without any water or food. He isn’t going to win, obviously - emotional, drunk, throwing down another hundred and fifty when you’ve already lost quite a lot? Oh yeah, he’s gonna lose.

May as well bet everything he has in his pockets, right?

*

Sam lays down four fours and the other guy gapes as he collects the pot. Almost seven hundred dollars, a watch, a couple lighters, and a gift card for Marie Callender's. Dean’ll like that - that place is like the holy grail of pies.

“You - you fucking hustler, you cheated!”

The bartender appears next to the table. “Is there a problem?”

“He hustled me!”

The bartender cuts a glance at Sam, who is smiling dopily as he adds the cash to his clip. He’s swaying a little where he stands.

“Sir, he’s drunk. He’s had nine beers. Even if the intent was to hustle you, it’s pretty hard to do that when you’re drunk. He just got lucky.”

The man storms out of the bar. The bartender cuts Sam a look, one eyebrow raised. Sam just smile, innocent as the day is long, pure as the driven snow. With a huff, the bartender walks back to the bar. Sam strolls out, still swaying.

*

He gets back to the motel room and waves the gift card at Dean, who is shamelessly fanning himself with a large number of twenties.

“Is that -” Dean’s whole expression lights up, dropping the cash and making a gimme motion, snatching the card from Sam’s hands. “ _Dude_. This is like - a slice of every pie in that place. What else did you get?”

“Seven hundred in cash, lighters, a watch that’ll be worth at least fifty at a decent pawn shop.” Sam shrugs, and Dean laughs.

“See, this is exactly why we hustle. You are too damn good at it.”

Sam shrugs again. “What’d you get?”

“Oh, y’know, I just robbed half a biker gang of their cash in pool.” Dean flops the stack of twenties around. “Five hundred dollars and the keys to a storage unit in Arizona.”

Sam’s eyebrows hitch up. “That could be interesting. Wanna head there tomorrow?”

Dean nods, and then shakes his head. “We’re getting pie first. All the pie we can manage, Sammy.”

Sam snorts, but he agrees.

 

 


End file.
